Lord Tony and the Princess Snide
by Baroness Emma
Summary: Why does Chau-Chau rub his hands together? Why is the League ALWAYS "leaning forward expectantly"? What makes Marguerite testy? Do Percy and Donald Trump have anything in common? Find out in a "Lord Tony's Wife" parody. Now COMPLETE! Please R&R!
1. Chapter 1

**Introduction**

_**An Apology**_

_"Lord Tony's Wife" might seem like a pretty basic Orczy story, but it isn't. It is, in fact, totally impossible. Oh, the premise is okay, and everything that Blakeney and The League do are quite formulaic for Orczy - meaning that the story is intricate enough to be interesting, well (ish) executed, and definitely, wonderfully entertaining. But in everything else. . . Orczy just CAN'T be serious. Yvonne is a. . . um. . . supposed heroine. . . and she. . . well. . . I won't go there. (because I'm about to vent everything in the following story anyway :) Then there's Tony. Poor guy, he was really great and happy and boyishly honest - the second most well developed (after Ffoulkes) and the most entertaining of the League members IMHO - and then he meets "Yvonne The Supposed Heroine" and. . . turns to sappy jelly. Sickening. Tony would never turn to sappy jelly. No League member would. Even St. Just didn't. (he turned into stupid jelly, but that's a different thing. . . and then he redeemed himself)_

_And then, of course, there are the supposed villains! Chauvelin is great (because he just is) but the real "bad guys" in the story. . .Ugh! Wimps! Martin-Roget? Blah. Trying to pass himself off as the Pimpernel. . . Eek! Swim Away! And Carrier. . . !?! . . . He's supposed to be some great and terrible evil god, and what does he do? He picks his teeth and hides in his room. He's so paranoid he almost sucks his thumb. Oh yeah, that's scary. _

_Um. . . no. I think not._

_Personally, I think that Orczy was actually parodying herself with this story. It's just too funny in all the right places. Maybe it was her subconcious, and maybe not, but I love "Lord Tony's Wife" because I can read it and not get serious about any of it. In fact, I can make fun of it! _

_So I did. _

_And I had a lot of fun doing it, too. _

_(Warning - a lot got changed and a lot got taken out and a lot got put in and most of it tears Orczy to shreds, but what else can you expect from a parody?)_

_Please enjoy!_

_- The Baroness Orc_

_(Oh, yes, I do not own this story or any of the characters in it, a fact for which Orczy heirs are profoundly grateful. . .)_

**A Dedication**

To - "Jade9" and "The Lark" for writing "The Truth About The Scarlet Pimpernel (With Jokes)" and "The Scarlet Pimpernel For Dummies" - Thank you both for your brilliant and inspiring stories. (Reading them inspired me to write this, so if anything I wrote seems ripped off from your stuff, I promise it was unintentional, and I apologize profusely.)

**A Random Quotation That Has Nothing to Do With The Story**

"I forbid you to set the crown of England upon that forfieted head! _I_ am the king of England!

- Prince Edward, from "The Prince and the Pauper", by Mark Twain

**A Stupid Poem That **_**Really**_** Has Nothing To Do With The Story**

If You Can

If you can get a rhyme,

To rhyme

All the time,

Then fine.

I ain't a poet,

And now you know it.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2 **

_In which the story begins. . ._

It was a dark and stormy night. It was dark because the sun was down, and it was stormy because it was raining. In a weird situation that had nothing to do with Tony Dewhurst, Yvonne de Kernogan was driving in a coach, in the dark, in the rain. Why she was doing this has never been adequately explained, but the local peasantry had seen her do it before, and it made them mad. Very mad. Exactly why it made them mad is not a matter we shall discuss very deeply, but it had a lot to do with lace and mud. Basically, she had lace and they had mud, and just once in a while they wanted to trade. (But she didn't)

So Miss Kernogan was toodleing along in the dark and the rain and the man who was driving her coach saw a lot a peasants who were also in the dark and the rain, but they didn't have a coach.

**Coach Driver** "Hey Miss! there's a bunch of peasants down here that want to trade some mud for some lace."

Yvonne raised an eyebrow. She was good at raising her eyebrows, and had even won a trophy for it at nun school.

**Yvonne** "Tell them no, Mr. Coach Driver person. And get me home soon, my footbath water is probably cold by now."

**Coach Driver **"The peasants are very insistent Miss, and they do have lots of mud. . . "

**Yvonne** "NO!"

**Coach Driver **"Okay, okay! What do you want me to do?"

**Yvonne** "Squish 'em!"

**Coach Driver **"If you say so. . ."

(sound of peasants being squished)

**Crowd of Peasants** "Eek! Persecution! Swim Away!"

**Yvonne** (shouting out of coach window) "Woo hoo! Don't mess with _me_! I'm _good_ at the peasant squishing thing!"

**Random Peasant** (rushing up to coach window) "Hey! Thanks for the squishing!" (kisses her)

**Yvonne** "Oooo! How exciting! Home, driver!"

**Coach Driver **(very weirded out) "Yes Miss."

Somewhere close by, M. le duc de Kernogan was eating dinner. He wasn't eating squished peasant, but it always made his dinner a little more tasty when he knew that, somewhere in the world, peasants _were _being squished.

(Aside) M. le duc de Kernogan was Yvonne's father, and because of some rather odd naming conventions for bigwigs in France, he had never had a first name. This was a really annoying and impersonal sort of thing, and made for a lot of testy Dukes and Barons, but that was OK - it was considered high-class to be testy. A lot of people have surmised that the whole "I'm-not-going-to-give-my-kid-a-first-name-because-he's-an-aristo" thing, was only used to make them testy in the first place. (End of Aside)

**Duc de Kernogan** (burp) "Where's my daughter?"

**Random toady** "Riding home in the mud and rain."

**Duc de Kernogan** "What's she doing that for?"

**Random toady** "Dunno, but she's gonna have to squish some peasants to get here."

**Duc de Kernogan** "Well, that's all right then." (burp) "Hey! This pate is really tasty tonight! Thank the cook."

**Random toady** (who had never tasted pate) "Yes sir."

**Yvonne** "Hey dad, I'm home! Do we have any pate? I'm starved!

**Duc de Kernogan** (burp) "Yes, dear."

**Yvonne** "I had _such_ an exciting drive home!"

**Duc de Kernogan** (burp) "Yes, dear."

**Yvonne** "Guess what? I got to squish some peasants and kiss another one!"

**Duc de Kernogan** (burp) "Yes, dear." (double take) "What? Off with his head! Stomp on his family! Burn the town!" (growls audibly)

**Yvonne** "Daaaaad! You're being overbearing again!"

**Duc de Kernogan** "That's OK, I die at the end of the story, I get to be overbearing."

**Yvonne** "Awwwww, dad. . . you ruined the surprise! Now I won't be able to cry!"

**Duc de Kernogan** "Oops." (taps on computer screen) "Hey, author person? Could you change that last?"

**Author** "Nope, sorry. I've got a continuity contract to think about."

**Duc de Kernogan** "Oh. Pickles. Okay, well. . . I'm going to get back to being overbearing. . ."

**Author** "You do that."

**Duc de Kernogan** "Yvonne! How could you!?!?!?!? Haven't I taught you better than that? Peasants are for squishing, not kissing! "

**Yvonne** "Yes, dad. . . but. . . "

(heroic music interrupts)

In walks. . . .

**THE SCARLET PIMPERNEL****!!!!!!!!!! **

**THE SCARLET PIMPERNEL **(strikes heroic pose) "Greetings, all you oppressed and downtrodden and falsely asccused! I will save you from a bloody fate! (which you might bloody deserve, but I don't bloody care!)"

**Yvonne** (raises eyebrows) "Dad. . . Why is there a guy in red leotard in our dining room?"

**Duc de Kernogan** "Um. . . "

**THE SCARLET PIMPERNEL **"Follow me to the land of freedom, hot tea, imported French wine and freshly made haggis!" (strikes heroic pose)

**Yvonne** "Um. . . huh?"

**Duc de Kernogan** "Whah?"

**THE SCARLET PIMPERNEL** "Sink me, the French are dumb!" (hustles them into a waiting carriage)

**Yvonne** "Who _are_ you?" (furrows eyebrows) "And WHAT are you doing!?!?!?"

**THE SCARLET PIMPERNEL** "I am - (sound of heroic music) **THE SCARLET PIMPERNEL!** (voice echoes) - I'm here to fight for truth, justice, and really cool clothes!"

**Yvonne** (eyeing leotard) "Um. Okaaaay."

**Duc de Kernogan** "If we're going, we'd better get out of here. We don't want to get stuck in peasant rush hour."

**THE SCARLET PIMPERNEL** "Right!" (hoists carriage onto shoulders) "Tally Ho!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

(sounds of heroic escape)

**Author** "End of Chapter Two - This is Librivox recording, all Librivox recordings are in the public dom-. . . Oops! . . Wrong website, sorry."(See Note 1)

(Note 1)

Librivox is a wonderful site with lots of Orczy stories on it - three of them are SP novels. Go there. Listen. Enjoy.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

It was a dark and foggy night. It was dark because the fog blocked the moon, and it was foggy because this was England. It was ALWAYS foggy in England - no one knows why. In a weird situation that had nothing to do with Tony Dewhurst, Sir Percy Blakeney was dressed like a dork. Well, to be honest, he ALWAYS dressed like a dork, but usually it was a good looking sort of dork. Tonight he was all ragged and stupid looking because that was how he dressed when he was going to spy on his favourite villain - Citizen Chauvelin.

(Aside) Citizen Chauvelin's real last name was Chambertin, but because Chambertin means "a dry red wine", he decided to change it (See Note 2). He thought Chauvelin would be a much more macho name. It wasn't, but that just shows how good his imagination was. (End of Aside)

Chauvelin was a French villain. He was in England to talk to another very bad sort of snooping French guy. Just why they had to come all the way to England so they could chat isn't really important - these things happen, you know.

**Sir Percy Blakeney** (spying) Oooh! Chauvelin is talking to a bad snooping French guy! Let's see if I can get close enough to hear.

(sound of surreptitious creeping and spying)

**Bad Snooping French Guy** "Hey, Chauvie! Want to help me to kidnap a girl?"

**Sir Percy Blakeney** (spying) Oooh, look! Villainy! Yum.

**Chauvelin** (rubbing hands together) "Sure, why not? Nothing else to do. But try not to shout my name so loudly."

**Bad Snooping French Guy** (shouting) "Why not? There's no one here to listen!"

**Sir Percy Blakeney** (spying) *Snerk*

**Chauvelin** "Shhhhhhh! We're in England! There are Scarlet Pimpernels everywhere!" (rubs hands together)

**Bad Snooping French Guy** "Meh. I don't care."

**Chauvelin** (rubbing hands together) "You _should_ care, my evil friend!"

(sound of evil laughing)

(Aside) It has been observed by many that Citizen Chauvelin had an almost obscene tendency for evil laughing and evily rubbing his hands together. This seems the right time and place to reveal the sad fact that, due to an accidental overdose of snuff, Citizen Chauvelin had terribly (and terminally) dry skin. As dry skin was not considered a macho illness, he had to conceal the fact by surreptitiously using gallons of hand lotion - hence the rubbing. Also, the constant itching made him impossibly touchy. It was not considered manly to scratch in public, and the only way he could get away with hiding his illness was to pretend to be an extremely touchy evil villain - hence the laughing. Therefore, any subsequent mention of evil laughing or hand rubbing should be a matter for the reader's pity and not his scorn - unless the reader suddenly smells an unexplained odor of lavender - in which case, the reader may know that Chauvelin has dropped his bottle of Gold Bond.(Yesss! Product placement! Score!) (End of Aside)

**Bad Snooping French Guy** "I'm gonna kidnap the girl tomorrow."

**Chauvelin** "Hooray! What do I do?" (rubs hands together)

**Bad Snooping French Guy** "Nothing."

**Chauvelin** "Nothing?"

**Bad Snooping French Guy** "Nothing."

**Chauvelin** "Then why am I here?"

**Bad Snooping French Guy** "Dunno bub. I hear the Author of this thing has got a continuity contract."

**Chauvelin** "Oh. That bites." (laughs evilly, just for the fun of it) "Well, get on with your loathsome plans then."

**Bad Snooping French Guy** "Okay." (looks very villainous)

**Sir Percy Blakeney** (spying) Hah! A villainous villain! I must intervene!

Sir Percy begins spinning around very fast - nothing happens.

**Sir Percy Blakeney** "Oops! Forgot step one!"

He steps into a waiting telephone booth. . . .

**Random crowd of peasants** "Gah! Anachronisim! Swim Away!"

. . . . begins spinning very fast again. Steps out of the telephone booth as. . .

**THE SCARLET PIMPERNEL****!!!!!!!!!! **

(sound of heroic music)

**Random crowd of Duchesses** "Woo! Hotness! Squee!" *Sigh* *Faint* *Thud*

**THE SCARLET PIMPERNEL** (strikes heroic pose) "Ta-Da! Yay me! But, sink me, this leotard is awfully corny. . ."

THE SCARLET PIMPERNEL runs off to the French guys horses, unties them and lets them go.

**THE SCARLET PIMPERNEL** (snicker) "That will teach them!" (strikes heroic pose) "To the Secret Hideout!

(runs off to sound of heroic music)

(Note 2)

I suggest you look "Chambertin" up. It really _does_ mean, "a dry red wine". Honest. Cool, huh?


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

It was a dark and stormy night at Richmond. It was dark because the sun wasn't up yet, and it was stormy because Marguerite Blakeney was having a very loud spat with her maid.

(Aside) It is a little known fact that Lady Blakeney often had spats with her maids, because mostly people thought she was a really sweet pushover. Of course, that was true, but only when her husband was around. Whenever he was there, she'd argue with him, and be really sweet to everyone else. But when she didn't have her husband around to argue with, she would really get to need someone to exercise her wit on, and so the poor maids quite often got it in the teeth.(End of Aside)

In a weird situation that only had a little to do with Tony Dewhurst, The League of the Scarlet Pimpernel was having a secret meeting in Sir Percy Blakeney's private office. Blakeney's private office was called The Secret Hideout. No one knew why he had picked that name. Probably the same reason he had picked the name "Scarlet Pimpernel" - which is to say, Blakeney must have found that it made a really good anagram or something.

(Author rushes to anagram site and types in "Scarlet Pimpernel". . . marvels at strangeness and irony. . . types in "Secret Hideout". . . pauses for three hours in interested stupor . . . . . . .Oops! Getting distracted. . . sorry!)

Anyway. . . in the Secret Hideout. . .

**Sir Percy Blakeney** "Ahem!" (picks up eyeglass and looks through it) "This emergency meeting of the League of the Scarlet Pimpernel will come to order!"

**The League** **of C.C.** "Hoo-ray"

(Aside) It has often been mentioned that Sir Andrew Ffoulkes's statement of "One to Command, Nineteen to Obey" is something of a fallacy. In actual fact, he was quite correct, because wherever the League went, a strange and rather creepy set of talking cardboard cutouts followed them. The purpose of this gaggle of flat thingies was to show enthusiasm at proper moments, and to not be in the way when actual fun was going on. (End of Aside)

In the center of the room there was a big round table with twenty filled seats. The chairs around the table were specially made so that it always appeared that their occupants were leaning forward expectantly. This saved a lot of effort on the part of the League members - especially after late-night parties. On this particular night, they had all come from the Prince of Wales's monthly party - "That Big Wine Chugging Do, And All That, What?" - and they were all still recovering from it, so it was quite nice to just relax - but still look as though you were leaning forward expectantly.

**Sir Percy Blakeney** "Right. (picks up theater glasses and looks through them) Roll call."

**Sir Andrew Ffoulkes** "Present."

**Lord Antony Dewhurst** "Meh."

**Lord Hastings** "Yep."

**Lord Everingham** "M'here."

**Lord Stowmarries** "Yo."

**Sir Jeremiah Wallescourt** "S'up?"

**Froggy** "Croak."

(Whispering aside from Lord Everingham) "Did Holt just croak?"

(Whispering aside from Lord Hastings) "Yep."

(Whispering aside from Lord Everingham) "Is he dead now?"

(Whispering aside from Lord Hastings) "How should I know?"

(Whispering aside from Lord Everingham) "We should try to wake him up."

(Whispering aside from Lord Hastings) "Okay."

(sounds of muffled attempts at waking)

**Sir Percy Blakeney** "Right." (picks up bubble wand and looks through it)

**Random crowd of peasants** "Gah! More anachronisim! Swim Away!"

**Sir Percy Blakeney** "Ahem! Right. (taps bubble wand on lip) Well, the situation is this. The French are bad. We've known this for years, because English people are just smart like that, but for the first time the rest of Europe is agreeing with us, so that helps our efforts at rescuing some of these weirdos from the other weirdos who are trying to kill them. Naturally, none of this devalues the greatness of French cuisine - or booze - or fashion - or art - or language - or manners - or girls, of course - but ...

**Sir Andrew Ffoulkes** "Just get _on_ with it Blakeney!"

(Another Aside) Sir Percy Blakeney was really great at picking up things and looking through them (no one else in the League could do it - this was why everyone in the League respected him), but he was actually quite horrid at keeping to the point. The only reason that the League lasted as long as it did was because Sir Andrew Ffoulkes was there. Ffoulkes was the only guy who could occasionally tell Blakeney to stuff it. (this was why the rest of the League tolerated Andrew) He could do this because both he and Blakeney had French wives. Don't ask me why that was the reason, it just was.(End of Another Aside)

**Sir Percy Blakeney** "Right." (picks up doughnut and looks through it) "Mmmm, sticky. . . " (licks fingers) "Anyway, the only way to save the day is to marry off the girl that this bad snooping French guy is going to kidnap."

**Random crowd of peasants** "Eww! Elitism! Swim Away!"

**Sir Percy Blakeney** "Um, riiiiight." (picks up hoop earring and looks through it) "Soooooo - who wants to be the one married off this time? It can't be me or Ffoulkes 'cause we already sent in our box tops (See Note 3), but the rest of you bums are still single, aren't you?"

**Froggy** "Ughnuh"

(continued sounds of muffled attempts at waking)

**Sir Percy Blakeney** "Right." (picks up key ring and looks through it) "Volunteers anybody?" (scans room expectantly)

(utter silence)

**Sir Percy Blakeney **(taps key ring on lip) "Oh, did I mention that Yvonne de Kernogan is very cute?"

**The League** **of C.C.** "Okay! I'll do it!"

**Froggy** (waking up) "Do I get the girl this time?"

**Random crowd of peasants** "Ugh! Sexism! Swim Away!"

**Sir Percy Blakeney** (looking at peasants) "Uh. . . would you guys mind taking this elsewhere?"

**Random crowd of peasants** "Whoops! Aristocracy! Swim Away!"

**Sir Percy Blakeney** "Right." (picks up magnifying glass and looks through it - eyes cross - looks very dizzy) "Personally, I think Tony should do it."

**Lord Antony Dewhurst** "Meh. Why me?"

**Sir Percy Blakeney** (twirls magnifying glass dashingly) "Because that's the story. Continuity and all that, what."

**Lord Antony Dewhurst** "Hm. Yick." (sighs audibly) "Oh well, what sports does she play?"

**Sir Percy Blakeney** (picks up pair of scissors - looks through the handle) "I have it on good authority that she is very good at squishing peasants."

**Lord Antony Dewhurst** "Eh. Not my thing. Can she raise her eyebrows? I like that in a girl."

**Sir Percy Blakeney** (picks up wire coat hangar and looks through it) "Yes."

**Lord Antony Dewhurst** "Ok, sure. When's the wedding?"

**Sir Percy Blakeney** "Tonight." (taps Tony's shoulder with coat hanger)

**Lord Antony Dewhurst** "Wow. Quick one. When do I meet her?"

**Sir Percy Blakeney** "Now. Come on."

(sound of theatrical music)

Sir Percy and Tony exit theatrically.

**Froggy** "I never get the girl."

**Lord Everingham** "Me neither"

**Lord Stowmarries** "I hear ya, bro."

**Sir Jeremiah Wallescourt** "Yo. Dat how it is."

**Lord Hastings** "Okay, okay. Big secret meeting is over. Time to go round and take down the League of Cardboard Cutouts We don't need a full table anymore."

**Sir Andrew Ffoulkes** (laughing hysterically) "One to command, Nineteen to obey!"

**The League of C.C.** "Oh, shut up!"

(exit to muffled sound of Marguerite having another spat with her maid)

(Note 3)

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	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

It was a dark and stormy night. . . .

(Aside from the Author) I would like to give my sincerest apologies for the redundancy here. I was duped into signing a continuity contract. Therefore, every one of my chapters has to have the same basic format or I will have to pay a heavy fine. Please remember - this was not my choice, I was forced to do it, I promise I'll never denounce anybody ever again, Percy, please just love me again, I'll do anything. . . *whinge, whinge*. . . Oops! Getting carried away, sorry! . . . (ahem!) . . . Anyway, thanks for understanding the redundancy bit, I promise it gets better later on.(End of Aside from the Author)

It was a dark and stormy night. Actually, it wasn't very stormy. It was dark, of course, because it was nighttime - and dark is just one of those natural side effects of nighttime one has to learn to live with - but the stars were out, and so was the moon, and it would have been rather nice, and all that, what - except that in a weird situation that had a lot to do with Tony Dewhurst, Yvonne de Kernogan was married, and M. le duc de Kernogan was mad about it. Very mad. No one really knows why he was mad, because Tony was such a nice boy - sports and all that, what. Money too. And he wasn't ugly or anything. But he was unquestionably English, and all that, what. Perhaps this was the core of the problem, because Lord Antony Dewhurst was an aristo - just like M. le duc de Kernogan - but Tony had a first name, and that just wasn't fair. He wasn't testy, or any of that, what. (he _was_, of course, a member of The League of the Scarlet Pimpernel, but M. le duc de Kernogan didn't know that, and anyway, it probably wouldn't have made much of a difference)

So M. le duc de Kernogan sat in his chair, being mad, because he had stomped on all the Poleroids he had of Yvonne (except the one where she was six and had just squished her first peasant) but it hadn't seemed to help. Then some old servant came into the room with a plate of haggis.

**Random Servant** "Oops. . . um. . . sir?"

**Duc de Kernogan** (audible growling) "Hey! Don't bother me when I'm mad for no reason!"

**Random Servant** "Oh. . . right. . . I'll be back later. . ."

(sound of more growling)

This was not good for M. le duc de Kernogan, of course, and all that, what, but basically, he was used to getting what he wanted. In this case he didn't know what he wanted, so he was just mad generally at the world for not telling him what he really wanted, and mad specifically at Yvonne because she sort of did know what she wanted and that just wasn't fair. Women's Lib and all that, what.

(Aside) The previous few paragraphs should have been given to the reader in a long and rather touching soliloquy by M. le duc de Kernogan. If he had condecended to talk to the Random Servant, it could even have been a colloquy. But, soliloquies and colloquies tend to be very Shakespearian things, and Shakespearian things tend to be very English. During his stay in England, M. le duc de Kernogan had leared to hate and loath all things English. Especially haggis. (which wasn't English, but he didn't know that) In any case, he hated English things, so out of deference to him, all the previous few paragraphs were narrated by Sir Percy Blakeney and transcribed by Lord Hastings. (and all that, what) (End of Aside)

**Duc de Kernogan** (audible growling) "Grrrrrrrrrr. Where's a peasant when you need one?"

**Bad Snooping French Guy** (appearing out of thin air) "Oooh! A chance to be villainous!"

**Duc de Kernogan** (audible growling) "Where did you come from?"

**Bad Snooping French Guy** "Oh. . . nowhere. . . but I'm French! Isn't that cool?"

**Duc de Kernogan** (audible growling) "Well, in a manner of speaking. . . yes. . . but so what? Do you have a first name?"

**Bad Snooping French Guy** "Um, yes. But I'm also testy, you see, so we have things in common."

**Duc de Kernogan** (audible growling) "Well. . . I suppose you're alright then."

**Bad Snooping French Guy** "Good. (speaking really fast)

Nowyou'regoingtoletmekidnapyouandyourdaughterandtakeyoubacktoFrancewhereavillainmuchuglierthanmewillkillbothof

youinsteadofmehavingtodoitbecauseI'msomuchofastupidcowardI'dratherpaysomeoneinanothercountrytodomydirtywork

anditmightaswellbehimbecausehe'sreallyugly."

**Duc de Kernogan** "You need to learn to speak slower, young man."

**Bad Snooping French Guy** "Oh, I think not."

**Duc de Kernogan** "Huh?"

**Bad Snooping French Guy** (snapping fingers and waving hands theatrically) "Watch this!"

(loud popping sound)

**Yvonne** (appearing out of thin air) "Hey, how did I get here? Oh, well. Who are you?"

**Bad Snooping French Guy** "My name is Martin-Roget! You squished my father! Prepare to die!"

(Yesss! "Princess Bride" rip-off! Score!)

**Yvonne** (raising eyebrows) "What?"

**Bad Snooping French Guy** (screaming) "My name is Martin-Roget! You squished my father! Prepare to die!"

**Yvonne** "Oh. Oops."

Then the Bad Snooping French Guy bashed M. le duc de Kernogan and then Yvonne on the head with a big frying pan (because he was out of huge wooden mallets) and dragged them off to France.

**Random crowd of peasants** "Ick! Villainy! Swim Away!"

(villain exits villainously)


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

It was a dark and stormy night. It was dark because - well, you ought to know why it was dark, so I'm not going to explain that bit right now - and it was stormy because Lord Antony Dewhurst was very busy crying and whinging and turning to mushy goo. It was a very weird situation, but Sir Percy Blakeney was happy about it. Just why he was happy about it is a very difficult thing to explain, but mostly it had to do with lace and mud. See, he usually wore an awful lot of lace, and just once in a while he wanted to wear mud instead, but his wife wouldn't let him. So, he had to think up excuse after excuse as to why he wanted to tramp about in mud instead of spending his time wearing a lot of lace and sitting with her, and this problem of Tony's was just the sort of thing which would give Blakeney weeks of excuse material.

**Lord Antony Dewhurst** (crying) "The bad snooping French guy got my wife." (whinging) "Even though I only married her to keep her away from him. . . Whahhahaha!" (turning to mushy goo)

**Sir Andrew Ffoulkes** "Well that's one plan down the tubes."

**Sir Percy Blakeney **"Calm down, Tony." (hands him an embroidered tissue) "We'll do all we can."

**Lord Antony Dewhurst** (perking up) "Can we kick ass?"

**Sir Percy Blakeney **"Um. . . no. That is not the function of the League of the Scarlet Pimpernel."

**Lord Antony Dewhurst** "Meh."

**Sir Percy Blakeney **"Well. . . We'll look it up in the rule book. . ." (strikes heroic pose) "To the Rule Book, Andrew!" (voice echoes)

Sir Andrew Ffoulkes goes to the bookshelf and takes down a very large book with the title "Rules of Propriety to Follow When Breaking all Rules of Propriety".

**Sir Andrew Ffoulkes** (mumbling) "Violence. . . Victory. . . Vesuvius (huh, what's Vesuvius doing in here?). . . Vile smells. . . Villains. . . Ah! Here we go, "Villains" -

The League of C.C. leans forward expectantly.

**Sir Andrew Ffoulkes** (reading out loud) "_To deal with villains, small or great, it is necessary to first stand as far away as possible from the villain in question, and then follow the following - _

_Step One - Insult villain._

_Step Two - Wait for villain to self destruct._

_Step Three - Rinse._

_Step Four - Repeat."_

(mumbling aside from Lord Stowmarries) "Heh, like THAT'll ever work. . ."

**Sir Andrew Ffoulkes** (smirking) "And that's it, Tony. I'm afraid there's nothing in here about kicking ass."

**Lord Antony Dewhurst** (sighing) "We never get to kick ass."

**Lord Stowmarries** (shrugging) "We could just go there, grab the girl and come home. . ."

**Sir Percy Blakeney **"Nope. Too easy."

**Sir Andrew Ffoulkes** "Why?"

**Sir Percy Blakeney **"Chambertin."

**Sir Andrew Ffoulkes** "The bad guy? Why does he matter?"

**Sir Percy Blakeney **(points at rule book) "Look it up. . ."

**Sir Andrew Ffoulkes** (turning pages and mumbling) "Let's see. . . Cards. . . Cheating. . . Cheating at cards. . . Changing clothes. . . Changing religions. . . Cognac. . . Chauvelin (aka Chambertin). . . Ok. "Chauvelin" -

(reading out loud)

_"All adventures having anything to do with Citizen Chauvelin (aka Chambertin) shall have their danger and complicatedness factors tripled."_

**Sir Andrew Ffoulkes **"Wow. So. . . that means disguises, doesn't it?"

**Sir Percy Blakeney **"Yep."

**Sir Andrew Ffoulkes **"Then what?"

**Sir Percy Blakeney** "We go there, grab the girl and come home."

**Lord Stowmarries** "But. . . that's what I just. . ."

The League of C.C. scowls in his direction.

**Lord Stowmarries** "Never mind."

Sir Percy Blakeny hustles everyone onto his yacht.

**The League of C.C.** "Hoo-ray"

**Sir Percy Blakeney** "Right!" (hoists yacht onto shoulders) "Tally-Ho!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

(fade out to sound of heroic music)


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

It was a dark and testy night. It was dark for the usual reasons, and it was testy because Marguerite Blakeney was reading a letter from her husband. It made her mad. (very mad) It was a weird situation that should never have included Tony Dewhurst, but this time, it did.

The letter said -

_My dearest M'deah,_

_I'm going back to France now because I love mortal danger and all that, what, and also because Tony's beloved bride has been kidnapped by Chambertin and some other bad Snooping French Guy. (by the way. . . why do all the bad guys come from __**your **__country? . . .) But anyway, I must save the day, of course, and rescue the damsel in distress. _

_Believe it or not, I love you just as much as ever,_

_PB _

_(And that __**doesn't **__stand for peanut butter, and you are going to __**stop**__ teasing me about sticking to the roof of your mouth, or I'm not going to rescue you next time!) _

_P.S. Please try not to get into any distress while I'm gone - saving two damsels at once is really tough._

It was exactly this kind of letter that made Marguerite want to smack her husband. (and _not_ playfully on the tush - which was usually how she wanted to smack him)

**Marguerite Blakeney** (yelling) Armand!!!!!

**Armand St. Just** (appearing out of thin air) "Yes, my darling beloved sister?"

**Marguerite Blakeney** (yelling) Percy's at it again!!!!!

**Armand St. Just** (raising eyebrows) "So, what do you need me for?"

**Marguerite Blakeney** You're someone I can fuss at for a bit.

**Armand St. Just** "Ok, just a minute, let me get properly testy. . ."

(adjusts face)

(Aside) Armand St. Just was not an aristo, but he was uncommonly good at being testy. Whenever any member of the League wanted to brush up on being testy they just went to see St. Just and did what he did. He was rather a nice resource (which was why the rest of the League tolerated him) (End of Aside)

**Marguerite Blakeney** (whining) "Why would a happily married man go into danger, mud and almost certain death when he his so very happily married to ME?"

**Armand St. Just** (shrugging) "Um. . . . . ."

**Marguerite Blakeney** (whining) "I mean, he couldn't possibly be _bored_ or anything. . ."

**Armand St. Just** (shrugging) "Well, saving aristos _is_ good exercise, you know.

**Marguerite Blakeney** (taps chin with fingertip) "Hmmmm. I wonder how two married people could use lace and mud to exercise. . ."

**Armand St. Just** (squealing) "Eww! Mental picture! Don't DO that!"

**Marguerite Blakeney** "Why not?"

**Armand St. Just** (squealing) "Because you know how sensitive I am!"

**Marguerite Blakeney** (plants fists on hips) "Oh, get over it. You _are_ French after all!"

**Armand St. Just** (continues to squeal) "But, you are too! That makes it worse."

**Marguerite Blakeney** "Yes. That's the whole idea." (walks haughtily across the room)

**Armand St. Just** (pressing hands to forehead) "I'm going to go drink until I can't remember this conversation. . ."

**Marguerite Blakeney** (shrugging) "Have fun."

**Armand St. Just** "Do _you_ at least feel better, _petit maman_?

**Marguerite Blakeney** "I'll feel better when I can slam a door in someone's face. . ."

Armand slowly backed away from his sister and ran to find the _eau de vie_.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

It was a drak and strmoy night. It was drak and strmoy because this was France, and the new French government had abolished all classy, fun and useful things (except booze), and what was more classy, fun and useful than spelling? No one knows why they thought spelling things right was just too upper crust, but we do know that they thought drinking was more fun if you didn't have to worry about being able to read the warnings on the bottle. (after several generations of really stupid legislation, the people of France had finally figured out that all important decisions must be made under the influence of alcohol) So, every night, even if it was good and clear, had to be drak and strmoy, because the men leading the new French government were just mean that way. (it was the booze, really - when they were all sober they were actually quite nice people to play poker with)

In a weird situation that clearly had nothing to do with Tony Dewhurst, Yvonne and her father were back in France, and Carrier was mad about it. Very mad. Why Carrier was mad is not a pleasant subject, but I'm afraid it must be explained. You see, it mostly had to do with toe monsters and teddy bears. . .

**Random crowd of peasants** "Eeeee! Psycology! Swim Away!"

(Ahem!) While most people go through life wishing that their mothers had given them more ice cream and fewer carrots, Carrier was one of those unfortunates who went through life wishing his mother had never heard of the term "ugly stick".

**Random crowd of peasants** "Gah! Freudianism! Swim Away!"

(Um. . . guys. . . )

**Random crowd of peasants** "Yeesh! Even _more_ anachronisim! Swim Away!"

(Excuse me!)

**Random crowd of peasants** "Yes! Author person! What do you want?"

(Can I get a little bit of momentum here? You're being annoying!)

**Random crowd of peasants** "Right! We know! Swim Away!"

(sound of peasants swimming away)

Thank you. . . _any_way, Carrier had always been what anyone would call ragingly horrendous to look at (but at this stage in his life, you had to say "cosmetically challenged" if you wanted to live to see Tuesday), and he had never been able to sleep comfortably in a bed like a normal person because he was afraid that the toe monsters would eat him. (Toe monsters are really rather awful things that sometimes live at the foot of beds and eat ugly little toes - you really don't want any more explanation than that)

It was a VERY weird situation, and his mother didn't help. She just said that it might be less frightening if he slept in the closet and took his chances with the monsters in there instead.

Needless to say, all the teddy bears were excessive frightened of this family and ran away to Care Bear Land, so Carrier had never had a teddy bear.

So, Carrier had grown up very afraid of the dark, of over-starched dress shirts, of little green men with untidy hair and pointy shoes. . . all sorts of things, and when he attained ultimate power (the people in Nantes had called it an "election") he made himself a veeeeery swish bedroom-like thing, and put a veeeeery nice closet into it. He called it The Closet Of Perfect Evil. (or The COPE, for short) Into this closet no one was allowed to come or they would be doomed to have dinner with him.

Anyway, the Bad Snooping French Guy had brought Yvonne and her father to Nantes, so Carrier could kill them. The Bad Snooping French Guy was paying Carrier to do it. (please don't ask why - if I explained it, your brain might explode)

A lot of talking and arguing had to go on before they could actually get around to killing Yvonne and her father, and Carrier was mad, but that was normal. Chauvelin was mad too, but that was also normal.

Actually, in this case, Chauvelin was jealous because Carrier got drunk more often than he did and could therefore make far more and better decisions than Chauvelin.

(sound of Chauvelin opening Carrier's outer door)

**Carrier **(shrieking) "YOU WILL NOT ENTER THE CLOSET OF PERFECT EVIL!!!!!!!!!!!"

**Chauvelin **(raises eyebrows) "Duh."

**Carrier **"Right. Just so long as that's clear."

**Carrier's Troll-like Slave** "Ketchup."

**Chauvelin **"Did he just say "Ketchup"? (surreptitiously squirts lotion - rubs hands together)

**Carrier **"Yep."

**Chauvelin **(rubbing hands together)"Why?"

**Carrier **"That's his job. He supposed to give me compliments."

**Chauvelin **"But ketchup is a condiment."

**Carrier **"Well, he isn't very good at it. On a good day I can get him to say mustard."

**Chauvelin **"Oh. Charming." (rubs hands together)

(door opens)

**Carrier **(shrieking) "YOU WILL NOT ENTER THE CLOSET OF PERFECT EVIL!!!!!!!!!!!"

**Martin-Roget** "Relax, Carrier. It's just me."

**Troll-like Slave** "Ketchup."

**Martin-Roget** (sniffing) "Do any of you smell lavander?"

**Chauvelin **"Um. No." (puts hands in pockets)

**Troll-like Slave** "Ketchup."

**Martin-Roget** (sniffing) "You smell ketchup?"

**Chauvelin **(pointing at Troll-like Slave) "No. "Ketchup" is all he says, apparently."

**Carrier **"And sometimes mustard."

**Chauvelin **(sighing) "Yes. Sometimes mustard."

**Troll-like Slave** "Ketchup."

**Martin-Roget** "Whatever."

**Chauvelin **"Anyway, when do we get to the killing the Scarlet Pimpernel part?"

**Martin-Roget** "Well, we could dither about for a while and let everything get a lot worse than it already is and then I could pretend to be the Scarlet Pimpernel and give Yvonne the scare of her life and then we could dither about some more and hope that the real Pimpernel will be stupid enough to do something stupid."

**Carrier **"Sounds good to me. . ."

**Troll-like Slave** "Ketchup. Ketchup. Ketchup."

**Martin-Roget** "You're _sure_ none of you smell lavender?"

**Troll-like Slave** "Mustard."

**Chauvelin **(whispering) "Oh. . . please let me out of here."


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

It was a rather dark and stormy night, except that it wasn't. That is, it _had_ been a rather dark and stormy night, but now it was about two-thirty in the afternoon of the following day, and it was rather pretty out, with clouds and such in the sky and birds chirping in the trees, and the sun dancing rather prettily over the surface of the sea - which isn't actually possible, but rather difficult to explain at the moment. (see Note 4) The only problem with its being rather pretty out was that in a rather weird situation that had rather little to do with Tony Dewhurst, Sir Percy Blakeney had some rather unpleasant business to conduct with Citizen Chauvelin, and rather unpleasant business almost always requires that you have a rather unpleasant setting, and today, outside just wouldn't do. Rather a pity, really.

Oh well.

(Just why Blakeney and Chauvelin had to have a confrontation is very good question that I can't answer because I have to follow the terms of a continuity contract.)

Anyway, in a dark, dank, dripping, devilish (and many other words beginning with "D") room, Sir Percy Blakeney stood in one corner, and Citizen Chauvelin stood in another.

**Sir Percy Blakeney** (grinning) "Why, hello, bad guy. Sink me! You're wearing some extreeeeeeemly unfashionable clothes today."

**Chauvelin** (sneering) "You're trying that whole "Insult the villain and maybe he'll self-destruct" thing, aren't you?"

**Sir Percy Blakeney** (grinning) "Yep."

**Chauvelin** (sneering) "That sort of thing doesn't work on people with dry skin."

**Sir Percy Blakeney** "Oh. So how do I win?"

**Chauvelin** "How should I know? There's a continuity contract around here somewhere, figure it out for yourself."

Chauvelin watches as Sir Percy finds the shelf with the continuity contract.

**Sir Percy Blakeney** (leafs through contract) "Okay. How about I brag a bit?"

**Chauvelin** "Fine with me. . ."

**Sir Percy Blakeney** (grinning) "Ha ha! I have money and a mansion and a really hot wife!

**Chauvelin** (sneering) "So does Donald Trump."

**Sir Percy Blakeney** (grinning) "Yes. But I have better hair."

**Chauvelin** "True. . ."

**Sir Percy Blakeney** (grinning) "And a better T.V. show."

**Chauvelin** (sneering) "Yeah. _That's_ an achievement. . ."

**Sir Percy Blakeney** (grinning) "And a cuter tush."

**Chauvelin** (sneering) "Well. . . I'm no expert. . ."

**Sir Percy Blakeney** (sighing) "Is it working yet?"

**Chauvelin** (pinches own arm) "Nope, still here."

**Sir Percy Blakeney** "Oh well. . . I guess we're going to have to trot out the usual standby. . ."

**Chauvelin** (sighing) "Okay. . . I guess I'm ready. . ."

**Sir Percy Blakeney** (pointing theatrically) "Chambertin! Chambertin! Chambertin!"

**Chauvelin** (screeching theatrically) "Eeeeeeeeee! I'm melting! I'M MMMMEEEELLLLTTTTIIIINNNNGGGG!

(Yesss! Wizard of Oz rip-off! Score!)

**Chauvelin** (continuing to screech theatrically) What a world, what a world! Who would have thought that an English gentleman like you would destroy my beautiful villainy! Eeeeeeeeee! (turns into pool of steaming guck)

**Sir Percy Blakeney** (sighs) "He really needs a better script writer. . ." (taps on computer screen) "That was a really cold thing to do."

**Author** "Yeah, well, don't blame me - "

**Sir Percy Blakeney** "Yes, yes, continuity contract, I know."

**Author** "You can get back to saving the day now."

**Sir Percy Blakeney** "Okay. (sound of heroic music) Tally Ho!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" (bashes through stone walls with shoulders)

(Note 4)

In literal fact, the sun cannot dance, prettily or not, over anything, as the sun would immidiately vaporize anything it danced upon. When the sun dances on the sea, it is actually the _light_ from the sun being reflected and somewhat refracted by the prismatic qualities of. . . Oops! Getting scientific. Sorry!


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

It was a dark and stormy night. It had been a dark and stormy night for a long time now, and didn't show any sign of letting up. In an extremely weird situation that totally left out Tony Dewhurst, Yvonne Dewhurst nee Kernogan was trapped in room somewhere and a Bad Snooping French Guy was going to try to get her out by pretending to be the Scarlet Pimpernel. Do not ask why he was going this, because nobody knows why, just try to accept the fact that this was, indeed, what he was doing.

**Yvonne** (wailing) "Oh woe is me! I've been kidnapped and trapped alone in a room for days and the only people I've seen are evil soldiers or my dad, who I don't like very much right now, and I'm really hungry, and I wonder what's going to happen to me?"

**Martin-Roget** (swooping in out of nowhere) "Do not fear! The Scarlet Pimpernel is here!"

**Yvonne** (wailing) "Really?" (bats eyes) "Oh, thank you!" (tries to faint)

**Martin-Roget** (steps back) "Erm, uh, yes, well. . . ahem! . . . Follow me to Freedom!" (voice tries to echo)

**Yvonne** (raises eyebrows) "Hm. Haven't I seen you somewhere before? And heard your voice?"

**Martin-Roget** "Well. . . yes. I was in England when you were, and. . . . erm. . . well, it really doesn't matter. Follow me to Freedom!" (voice tries to echo)

**Yvonne** (raises eyebrows) "Hm. Weren't you the one who kidnapped me yesterday?

**Martin-Roget** "Um. . . (blushes) . . . yeah. . ."

**Yvonne** (raises eyebrows) "Not very nice of you."

**Martin-Roget** "Well hasn't it occurred to you that I kind of like you?"

**Yvonne** (raises eyebrows) "But you kidnapped me!"

(Aside) It is helpful at this point to remember that this story takes place in the eighteenth century, during which time it was virtually impossible to meet a member of the opposite sex in any way whatever and not have that meeting blown into a scandal by the next afternoon. Thus, your basic kidnapping was, at this point in time, about the equivalent of being asked out for drinks.(End of Aside)

**Martin-Roget** (throwing up hands in despair) "Forget all this sap, then! Let's go downstairs to the bar."

**Yvonne** "Okay." (takes his arm)

(sound of crowded bar)

**Random Crowd of Drunkards** "OH! Pretty girl! Act drunken!"

(sound of crowd acting drunken)

**Yvonne** "Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

**Martin-Roget** "Don't worry, your father and the real Scarlet Pimpernel are here and it's time for me to be the Bad Snooping French Guy again.

**Yvonne** (raises eyebrows) "But I thought you liked me now!"

**Martin-Roget** "Sorry babe. Continuity contract. . ."

(fade out to sound of enraged shrieking)


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

It was a dark and stormy night. I mean it this time - it really was. Unpleasant, wet, muddy, murky - a real, down in the trenches, freeze your toes off, WWII movie type of night. In a weird situation that had nothing at all to do with Tony Dewhurst, Sir Percy Blakeney was fantastically happy. It was the weather. He loved it. Sometimes he wished that WWII would come a hundred and fifty years early so he could make a movie about it. Yes, he loved the weather THAT much. No one really knows why weather like this made him so happy, but perhaps that is a good thing.

It was generally a good thing for all concerned if Blakeney was happy, because you realy didn't want to see him mad.

Unfortunately, he was about to get very mad, and there wasn't anything anyone could do about it.

It was his suit. He had to put it on before he could go save the day.

It was his hero suit.

He hated it.

It was a leotard.

**Sir Andrew Ffoulkes** (holding up leotard) "Okay. Now, come on Blakeney. We'll all turn around and let you change, and we promise that during the adventure we'll look at you as little as possible."

**Sir Percy Blakeney **"No. I don't wanna."

**Sir Andrew Ffoulkes** "Now now, you're being childish again! It really isn't all that bad. . . "

**Sir Percy Blakeney **"Well, _you_ don't have to wear one."

**Sir Andrew Ffoulkes** "That's right, I don't. YOU'RE the hero, YOU get to wear it!

**Sir Percy Blakeney **"But, I don't wanna!"

**Sir Andrew Ffoulkes** "Well, too bad!"

(continuing sounds of extremely childish argument)

**Sir Percy Blakeney **"Wait wait!" (tapping on computer screen) "Could you explain about this please?"

**Author **"Really? Are you sure?"

**Sir Percy Blakeney **"Yes please."

**Author** "Okay, well. . . you asked for it."

(Author's Explanatory Note) It is a well known fact that all superheros must have different superhero stuff. Frodo has The One Ring, Luke Skywalker has a lightsaber, Spiderman has webby thingies, Wolverine has really sharp fingernails (as it were), Batman has batty whatevers, and Macgyver has a Swiss Army knife and a funny hairdo. Blakeney, of course, had little supernotes that were not bound by the space-time continuum and could therefore teleport anywhere in the world and insult the villain of his choice. But, the one thing every superhero _must_ have is a really form-fitting superhero costume. (You know, so they can walk around in clothes that are all normal and everything, but be able at random times to rip them open and - this is the important part - not be arrested for streaking.) The problem that Blakeney had was that all the materials available in the late eighteenth-century just weren't any good as form-fitting superhero costumes. Linen wrinkled, cotton shrank in the wash, wool itched (a lot!), leather chafed, satin tore, silk was. . . somehow just not the right thing for a macho guy to use as a clingy outfit. . . and chain mail was soooooo last century. So, in the end there was nothing for it. Sir Percy had to invent Spandex. The problem with Spandex was that it. . . well. . . . . . um. . . . . . you see. . . . . . it kind of. . . . . . Uh, Blakeney? Are you _sure_ you want me to tell them this?)

**Sir Percy Blakeney **"Go ahead and say it."

**Author** "You're sure?"

**Sir Percy Blakeney **(puts hands over eyes) "Just get it over with"

**Author** (shrugging) "Okay."

(Continuing Author's Note) The real problem with Spandex was that it looked stupid. I mean, ripped muscles and all that aside, it was just. . . not cool. The fact that every superhero who came after Blakeney _also_ wears Spandex does not really help, because Blakeney suspects that they are all doing it just to make him feel better, and. . .)

**Sir Percy Blakeney **"Come _on_. Just tell them what's wrong with it."

**Author** (sighs) "All right, fine."

(Blakeney thought Spandex was a real pain. You couldn't wash it for one thing - the color always ran and stained his socks - there wasn't_ anything _else in the closet that went with it, and it was a terror to accessorize, but mostly, the biggest problem was that it made him feel fat.)

**Sir Percy Blakeney **"Hey!"

**Author** "Well, you told me to say it!"

**Sir Percy Blakeney **"But now you're getting personal!"

**Author** (rolls eyes) "There are worse personal things I could have said, you know. Several of them, if you will recall. . ."

**Sir Percy Blakeney** "True."(shrugging) "Okay, fat is fine. Carry on." (waves eyeglass dashingly)

(Anyway, it was because he didn't want the whole world to know about the Spandex thing that Blakeney always had to carry out all his rescues at night - but he did concede that this helped with the whole "concealing your identity" thing. Blakeney never managed to get a patent on Spandex, but luckily a descendant of his re-invented it for us to use and hate today.(See Note 5) (End of Author's Explanitory Note)

(Note 5) Sir Percy's descendant also went on to invent men's briefs (to be worn outside the Spandex, of course), to use his eyeglasses as the sum total of his disguise, and bring capes and spit curls back into fashion. (Yesss! "Superman" reference! Score!)

So, after Blakeney got into his Spandex suit, a lot of adventurous stuff happened, but I'm afraid I can't tell you about it because the members of the League of Cardboard Cutouts got in everbody's way, and you couldn't see a thing for about twenty minutes.

After all the adventurous stuff was over, and all of the League was trapped in the back room of the bar, with an angry mob outside, and Chauvelin and Carrier waiting around somewhere, eager to carry out dastardly deeds of derring do, the members of the League of Cardboard Cutouts got out of the way.

The only good part was that in the middle of all this, the League had managed to save Yvonne and her father, even though the old man wasn't looking so good at the moment.

**Sir Andrew Ffoulkes** "Um. . . Blakeney? The stupid old guy is dead. Was that supposed to happen?"

**Sir Percy Blakeney **"Oops."

**Sir Andrew Ffoulkes** "Well, that's two plans down the tubes."

**The League of C.C. **"Hoo-ray"

**Sir Percy Blakeney **"Wait, wait. Let me think."

(sound of Jeopardy theme)

**Sir Andrew Ffoulkes** "So. . . how are we going to get out of this one?"

**Sir Percy Blakeney** (affects fake New York accent) "Shalom! All you goyim get off your tucheses and start shlepping your own weight around here!"

**Sir Andrew Ffoulkes** "Oh no. . . Blakeney, you're _NOT_ going to try to be a Jew again?"

**Random crowd of peasants** "Oww! Racisim! Swim Away!"

**Sir Andrew Ffoulkes** "Blakeney, _please_. . ."

**Sir Percy Blakeney** "Listen to the meshuggina gentile get all ferblunjit!"

**Sir Andrew Ffoulkes** "Gah! Blakeney, I'm telling you! No one is going to believe you're a Jew if you talk like that!!!!"

**Sir Percy Blakeney** "Calm down, Andrew! You're shvitzing. Wanna hankie?"

**Sir Andrew Ffoulkes** (puts head in hands) "Heaven grant me patience. . . "

**Sir Percy Blakeney** (picks up bagel and looks through it) "Lox and cream cheese anyone?"

**Sir Andrew Ffoulkes** "Oy vay."

Sir Andrew Ffoulkes turned very red in the face.

**Sir Andrew Ffoulkes** "Blar! Now you've got ME talking this. . . this. . . (tries to hold it back, but can't). . . this mishegoss. . . Arg!

**Sir Percy Blakeney** "Tip-top lingo for expressing yourself, ain't it?

**Sir Andrew Ffoulkes** "Well. . . . . . . . . um. . . . . . . . . . . I suppose so. . . . . . . . . . . yes. . . . . . . . . . . ." (looks abashed)

**Sir Percy Blakeney** "Welcome to the mishpocha."

**Author **"Ahem! . . . . . Are you two finished?"

**Sir Percy Blakeney** "Sure. You're the one writing this, anyway."

**Sir Andrew Ffoulkes** "Yeah, we can stop whenever you want us to."

**Author **"Heh. That's what everyone thinks."

**Lord Antony Dewhurst** "Can we get on with my story now?"

**Author **"Yeah. . . that would be best. . ."

**Sir Andrew Ffoulkes** "So what are we going to do?"

**Sir Percy Blakeney** "Any of you bums have an idea?"

The League of C.C. looks expectantly at Lord Stowmarries.

**Lord Stowmarries **"Um, don't look at me. I'm just the token League Member. I don't do anything." (thinks hard) "Well, I suppose I could carry Yvonne's purse. . ."

**Author** "All right, that's _**it**_**!!!! **I've _**had**_ it with this stupid continuity contract!"

(sound of paper being viciously shredded)

**Crowd of peasants** "Yay! Revolution! Attack!!!!!!"

(sound of random attacking, punching, screaming and bleeding)

**Sir Percy Blakeney** "Well, that's torn it."

**Sir Andrew Ffoulkes** "Yep."

**Sir Percy Blakeney** "I guess that means we're going to have to fight back."

**Lord Antony Dewhurst** "You mean we finally get to kick ass?"

**Sir Percy Blakeney** "Well, not you. . . you have to carry the stupid old dead guy and I have to carry your wife."

**Lord Antony Dewhurst** "Meh."

**Yvonne** (shaking head) "Uh-uh. No you don't! (brandishes whip) I'm _**gooooood**_ at the peasant squishing thing!" (cracks whip)

**Crowd of Peasants** "Yipe! Emasculation! Swim Away!"

(sound of very large explosion)

**Marguerite Blakeney** (wearing a dress with big red buttons) "Hey! Percy, baby! Look at this! I just pushed one of the big red buttons on this dress you gave me for our anniversary and it not only teleported me here it also dug a tunnel under the English channel and isn't that cool 'cause then we can get back to England in like an hour and did I just blow up that random crowd of peasants too? Oops! I'm sorry peasants - "

**Yvonne **(raises eyebrows) "Is this allowed?"

**Lord Antony Dewhurst** (sighs) "Yeah. The continuity contract got torn up."

**Yvonne **"Well, I don't like it." (cracks whip again)

**Marguerite Blakeney** (plants fists on hips) "Get over it, doll face. I'M the heroine in this outfit!"

**Yvonne **"Yeah, if I was in _that _outfit, I'D be the heroine too!"

**Marguerite Blakeney** (narrowing eyes dangerously) "Do you want to make something of it?"

Yvonne raised her eyebrows dangerously. . .

**Lord Antony Dewhurst** (intervening and pointing at whip) "You know, Yvonne, that isn't going to work well in England."

**Yvonne** "What do you mean?"

**Lord Antony Dewhurst** "We don't do things like that over there."

**Yvonne** "You mean no more peasant squishing thing?"

**Lord Antony Dewhurst** "Yep."

**Yvonne** "But. . . but. . . I'm _good_ at it!"

**Lord Antony Dewhurst** "Sorry babe, that's the way it goes."

**Yvonne** "Well, I have to have _something_ to squish."

**Lord Antony Dewhurst** "Hm. We can talk about that later."

**Yvonne** "Okay."

(sound of totally random kissing scene)

**Sir Percy Blakeney** (looks at Marguerite) "By the way m'deah," (points at dress with big red buttons) "Great nick of time rescue thing. . . dress. . . whatever."

**Marguerite Blakeney** "Thanks, Percy baby. I'm a super modeler." (taps on computer screen) "Isn't that right?"

**Author** (blushing) "Erm. . . super_model_. . ."

**Marguerite Blakeney** "Whatever."

**Sir Percy Blakeney** "Okay everyone. Time to go."

**The League of C.C. **"Hoo-ray."

**Sir Percy Blakeney** "Right!!" (hoists whole French coast onto shoulders) "Tally HO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

So, everybody got whooshed back to England really fast, the stupid old dead guy got buried, Tony and Yvonne got to discuss many different types of squishing, the League got to insult more villains, Blakeney got to wear more Spandex, Marguerite got to model more things with big red buttons (and also invent mud wrestling) and everyone lived happily ever after.

The end.

* * *

**Marguerite Blakeney** "Wow. . . That story ended quick."

**Sir Percy Blakeney** "Yeah, well, continuity contract, you know. . ."

**Marguerite Blakeney** "What? I thought it got torn up."

**Sir Percy Blakeney** "Nope. Continuity contracts are like black holes - you can't escape the Even Hour Zone.

**Author **(whispering) "Event Horizon"

**Sir Percy Blakeney** "Whatever."

**Marguerite Blakeney** "Soooooo. Percy, baby. You want to make out now?"

**Sir Percy Blakeney** "Nah. How about I just stare at you instead?"

**Marguerite Blakeney** (pouting) "You never want to make out."

**Sir Percy Blakeney** "This is the eighteenth-century, m'deah. We can only make out when no one is watching."

**Marguerite Blakeney** "Oh. Okay."

Marguerite walks over to the door and slams it in the Author's face.

(screen fades to black)

**The End.

* * *

**

**Random crowd of peasants** "Hey! Author! You forgot us!"

**Author** "Oops, sorry. . ."

(Author composes one last line for a Random Crowd of peasants)

**Random crowd of peasants** "Wow! Thanks! Swim Away!"

**Author** "Oh, I will. . ."

(sound of Author swimming away)

**The End. (and it really is the end this time) **


End file.
